


Play. Stop. Repeat.

by Literary_Sacrifice



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: M/M, Sadness, also time loop theory, kaworu's thoughts basically, shinji is only mentioned, spoilers i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 22:24:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5265992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literary_Sacrifice/pseuds/Literary_Sacrifice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaworu's thoughts on looping and memories of it I guess?? pretty abstract and not very linear, and EXTREMELY experimental.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play. Stop. Repeat.

**Author's Note:**

> The grammar may be off at some points just because I want it to be read a certain way and the modern english language makes it kind of hard to do.  
> this is not how i normally write, it's just a style that i wanted to try, and isn't very constructed. probably don't read if you haven't seen at least the anime, but it'll help a lot to understand references if you've seen both the anime and rebuilds.

              Click. The cassette tape plays. Click. The cassette tape stops. Click. The cassette tape repeats.

              Click. The music plays (noise). Click. The music stops (silence). Click. The music repeats (familiar).

              Play. Stop. Repeat. Play. Stop. Repeat. Play. Stop. Repeat.

              Play it as many times. Stop it as many times. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Always repeating.

              Repeat. Repeat over and over.

              Practice. Practice over and over.

              Thinned appendages stretch across black and white keys, tapping; playing. The notes of the song evaporate into the air one after another. The piano creaks.

              Keep going. Practice. Practice until you get it right.

              Press; finger-tips against ivory. Counting; measures carefully calculated.

              Moving; reaching to touch. Moving; forming a hug. Moving; can’t help it. Moving; keep going, keep hitting play, keep hitting stop, keep repeating.              

              Moving; living. Moving; dying.

              The echo of an apology ringing in ear-drums; over and over and over again.

              Repeat, practice, until it’s not “I love you” at one time and “I’m sorry” at another, but rather “I love you” earlier and the same “I love you” later.

              Tears, they’re leaking. Not mine; eyes dried up long ago. But him - his lips wobble. His screams are raspy in his throat. He curls up and shakes violently, losing control of himself.

              Scarlet, crimson, vermillion; blood. Ichor running down walls, spilling onto floors, filling the seas, splattering the moon.

              Voice has grown dull and tired of making it seem not. Tired, tired.

              Tired of replaying. Tired of faking it. Tired of failing. Tired of seeing him like that.

              Okay, maybe this once.

              Okay, maybe next time.

              Maybe –

              Repeat. Just repeat.

              The tape stutters. 

              Do it again.

              Again.

              Try again.

              And again.

              And again.

              And again.

              Screeching, loud beeping, no, no, no.

              Not again, please, not again. So close, could taste it.

              Sorry. Sorry.

              “This is not the happiness you wished for.” Who is it that I’m talking to?

              It’s always the same. Stop (die). Play (live). Repeat (come to life, fall to death, come to life, fall to death).

              So tired.

              Do it again. Do it again for blue eyes, do it for the feeling of tan skin against pale, do it for the sound of his laugh, do it for the brightness of his smile.

              Again.

              Don’t look at me like that, don’t look like that, don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t –

              Again.

              Darkness. Light. All rushing back. Head feels heavy; heart’s heavier. Bones weak, muscles frail. Insides rotting. Body turning to dust.

              Mechanics shifting. Roaring. Races enslaved by their fates.

              Enslaved by my own.

              They’re all dying, ‘never as much as me.

              And he clicks, he clicks. Click. Click. Click. The cassette whirls.

              Practice, practice – practice? Practicing for failure?

              Irises the color of fresh skies, watering. More red.

              Repeat.

              Stop repeating.

              Stop repeating.

              Choking, twitching, sliced into two,

              Still tired.

              So tired.

              A stroke of the cheek. Lips meeting, lips pulling away – sirens blaring.

              Repeat.

              Close.

              So close.

              Repeat.

              Sweat on the back of the neck. Warm. Breath fast.

              He’s so beautiful, always been so beautiful. Delicate like glass.

              Red lights. Pain in your chest.

              Glass shattering.

              No.

              Repeat.

              No.

              Repeat.

              No.

              Repeat.

              No.

              Play, stop, repeat.

              Smiles contorting into frowns.

              Chuckles becoming wails.

              The living turning into the dead.

              Maybe this once.

              Maybe next time.

              Maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe

              Play.

              Stop.

              Repeat.

              Restart.

              End.

              Do it over.

        

              Click, click, click. Like bullets.

              Tired, but doing it for him. Worn out, but doing it for him. Dying, but doing it for him.

              Dying, living, muddled together; hard to tell which is which.

              Doesn’t matter. Repeat.

              Repeat.

              Click. The cassette tape plays. Click. The cassette tape stops. Click. The cassette tape repeats.

              Click. Eyes opening (rebirth). Click. Eyes shutting (death). Click. Open, shut, open, shut, open, shut, open, shut, (endless cycle).

              “I really was born to meet you.”

              Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

              “That’s because I’m always thinking of you.”

              No. No. No.

              “In other words, I love you.”

              Tired. Tired. Tired.

              “I’ve been waiting for you.”

              Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

              “This time, I’ll definitely make you happy.”

              Click.

              Click.

              Click.

             

 

             

                           

 

 


End file.
